


Attack of the Angels

by playpretendbetweenthetrees



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Superwholock, Weeping Angels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playpretendbetweenthetrees/pseuds/playpretendbetweenthetrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam have encountered the Weeping Angels, but no one, including Sherlock, John, and Garth, have heard of any such thing. However, Castiel may have found the perfect man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attack of the Angels

_“Thanks for everything,” Dean said walking up to a tall brunette man in a black overcoat and a shorter blonde man in a plaid long-sleeve._

_“Don’t worry about it. It really was no trouble at all,” replied the blonde._

_“I’m sorry. I don’t believe we caught your names,” Sam said, walking up to the group._

_“I’m John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes.” The blonde gestured first to himself, then to the brunette._

_“So how did you know that she was the killer?” Sam nodded in the direction of the police car where a woman who murdered an entire family in a house fire and tried to pass it off as an electrical error was being put into the backseat._

_“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains,_ however improbable _, must be true,” Sherlock replied without taking his eyes off the woman._

_“Yeah. I guess that makes sense. I just know that without your help, we wouldn’t have been able to solve this case,” Dean said. “Maybe we’ll be seeing you guys again.”_

_Sherlock handed them a business card with his and John’s number on it. “In case you need to get ahold of us.”_

_With that, John and Sherlock walked off beyond the police cars and disappeared into the night._

_One Year Later . . ._

 

            Dean and Sam Winchester didn’t visit their mother’s grave often. Being hunters kept them on the move constantly. However, when given the opportunity, they took full advantage of it.

            It was a quaint little cemetery, nothing spectacular. It was nice, well as nice as a cemetery could be without sounding morbid.

            Dean squatted down and placed a bouquet of white daisies next to the old-fashioned headstone; they were her favorite – at least according to their father. Sam stood over Dean, looking at the grave. It was too painful. After all, it was his fault she was dead. Sam looked everywhere else to avoid those painful memories. That’s when he saw it, something so simple and meaningless that anyone else would just dismiss it, but it struck a chord in him. It was the statue of a weeping angel.

            “Hey, Dean. Have those always been here?” Sam asked his brother. It _had_ been years since they’ve come here, but he would have remembered something like that. It was eerie.

            “Have what always been here?” Dean looked up at him.

            Sam glanced down for a quick second before looking back, “The statue.” He trailed off having seen that the angel had disappeared. “Uh, never mind. Must have been a trick of the light,” Sam said more to convince himself rather than his brother.

            Dean just nodded in understanding and walked back to the black Impala. Sam followed him into the car.

            They weren’t on the road for more than twenty minutes before Sam saw another weeping angel statue. It was alone on the side of the road, completely out of place.

            “There it is again!” Sam shouted, not talking his eyes off the angel this time.

            “What is?” Dean slammed on breaks. Luckily they were on a back road absent of any other cars. Sam got out of the Impala, still not taking his eyes off the statue. Dean rolled his eyes, but followed him anyways.

            “Another statue! It looks like the one I saw at the cemetery. A weeping angel.” Sam explained, exasperated. Dean looked at Sam as if he had lost his mind. Sam glanced at his brother then back to the statue, but it was gone again. “What? Where did it go?”

            “You’re really starting to weird me out now. You sure you’re okay, Sam?” Dean was genuinely worried about his brother now. He knew it wasn’t just a trick of the light this time, but he also wasn’t too convinced that it was real. Some horrific things had happened to Sam in the past that caused him to hallucinate, and Dean didn’t want to believe it could happen again.

            “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Let’s just go.”

 

Later that night, Dean called Garth while Sam was sleeping on one of the motel beds across the room.

            “Sam hasn’t been acting normal lately.” Dean sighed, sitting down on a chair.

            “When has Sam ever been _normal_?” Garth questioned.

            “No, I’m talking about _extra_ not normal.”

            “Okay spill. What’s been going on?”

            “We were at our mother’s grave this morning and he thought he saw a statue of a weeping angel and then again a little while later when we were on the road. Every time he looked away it was gone,” Dean explained, side-glancing at his brother’s sleeping form. “I don’t know if it was actually there or if he was just seeing things.”

            “Maybe it’s a side effect of Lucifer messing with his noggin. He hasn’t really been the same Sam since. I know Castiel fixed it, but maybe he’s tearing down the walls again,” Garth offered.

            That’s exactly what Dean didn’t want to hear. Anything but that. It was Dean’s job to protect his little brother. Lucifer getting into Sam’s head was something he was powerless against. Demons, leviathans, witches, _monsters_ are what Dean could handle. They were something tangible that can be killed, but he couldn’t do anything to save Sam from his own mind.

            “Have you tried praying to Castiel?” Garth went on after Dean didn’t answer.

            “He wasn’t answered for months! Why would he now?” Dean didn’t mean to get angry, but he couldn’t help it. Cas had been MIA for six months now without so much as a peep.

            “Or you could call on your buddy, Sherlock. I’ve never heard of a disappearing angel statue, but maybe he’ll have a logical approach to it.”

            “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Garth.”

            _Click._

 

John was huffing and puffing as he rounded a corner, pursuing a man dressed in all black. Why did this criminal have to make a run for it? Why couldn’t he just admit defeat and come quietly? They never did. He and Sherlock had split in different directions in order to catch the criminal more quickly.

            John had the guy in range, just a few more feet. He rounded another corner and leapt for the guy. Sherlock rounded the same corner John had a few short seconds ago already on the phone with the police. He cuffed the criminal. Police sirens could be heard in the distance. John heard a weird high-pitched ringing noise. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was his own phone. He scrambled to find it, not remembering which pocket he had put it in. He finally retrieved it from one of his inside coat pockets; the caller I.D. flashed _Dean Winchester_.

            “Dean? You have impeccable timing, my friend,” John answered with instead of the normal “hello?”

            John listened as Dean spoke on the other side of the phone. Sherlock saw John’s blank expression go pale. He knew right away what Dean was talking about.

            “No. No, I haven’t. I’m terribly sorry.” With that, John ended the conversation. He couldn’t take his eyes off his phone.

            “He asked about the angels,” Sherlock said. It wasn’t a question.

            John remained silent. Sherlock sighed. It wasn’t very often – or ever – that Sherlock had no clue what to do about a situation, but this was something he couldn’t fight alone.

            “I was afraid this was going to happen,” Sherlock continued through gritted teeth.

            “What are we going to do?” John finally spoke, but it was barely above a whisper.

            “The only thing we can do: pray Castiel has some answers.” Sherlock’s expression was unreadable; only his balled fists gave away his frustration of not being able to come to a solution himself. It wasn’t that he was frustrated that he needed help; it was that he was completely powerless against something he knew nothing about.

 

Dean was sitting alone on the edge of the motel bed. Sam was out getting them dinner. Dean’s head was bowed and hands clasped together.

            “Cas, buddy, I really need you right now. Something’s not right here. Sam’s talking about angel statues that disappear and I’m not sure if it’s Lucifer or something else.” Dean sounded so desperate – so broken – even to his own ears. “Sherlock and John don’t know anything about it, and even Garth hasn’t ever heard of anything like this.”

            Dean let the silence consume him, eyes closed and hands pressed against his forehead. He really hoped that Cas would answer, but I guess it was futile.

            “Dean . . .” The voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper. Dean’s head snapped up. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to. Standing before was a man wearing a tan trench coat. Dean almost laughed he was so relieved.

            “Where the hell have you been?” Dean said exasperated, standing up to hug him. Castiel returned the embrace.

            Sam walked in right at that moment, groceries in hand. When he saw Castiel, he dropped the bag out of shock and joined the hug. He’d been happy to see Cas in the past, but he had no words for just how glad he was right now.

            “Hello Sam. Hello Dean. I . . .” Castiel trailed off as the three broke away from the embrace. “I apologize for being away for so long. Things in Heaven haven’t been going so well.”

            “It’s okay, Cas. We understand. We’re just glad to see you now,” Sam replied. He side glanced at Dean who still looked like he was in shock.

            “I believe I found someone who can help you though.”

            “Help? What does he mean by help?” Sam turned on Dean.

            “I’ve been praying to Cas. I was worried that Lucifer was playing head games with you again.” Dean didn’t look his brother in the eye. He was only looking after him like he had been since they were children, but he knew Sam didn’t see it that way. Sam saw it as Dean trying to do everything on his own as usual.

            “It’s not Lucifer, but it is something just as menacing,” Cas explained.

            “What could be as bad as the devil?” Dean asked, genuinely confused.

            “These angels are an ancient race of aliens. They’re even older than Heaven’s angels. We don’t know much about them, but I found someone who does.”

            “Great! Who is it?” Sam had forgotten all thoughts of being cross with Dean.

            “He’s called the Doctor.

            “The Doctor? Doctor Who exactly?” Dean questioned.

            “That’s not an easy question to answer. Getting him here won’t be easy either.” Castiel had a pained look on his face.

            “And why not? Is he international?” Dean had a smug look on his face as if he had just told a hilarious joke.

            “More like extraterrestrial,” Cas said shortly, not having any of Dean’s shit today.

            “He’s an alien?” Dean’s face fell. He tried so hard to push thoughts of the last time he had encountered aliens out of his mind. It wasn’t exactly a happy memory.

            “From a parallel universe . . .” Cas trailed off. His expression darkened.

            “And you can do that?” Sam questioned.

            “It’s not going to be easy, but yeah I can. You’re going to need help once he’s here. I’ll be completely drained of my powers for an undetermined amount of time.”

            “What kind of help?” Dean asked, but Cas had disappeared before he could finish.

            He reappeared a few seconds later with John Watson and Sherlock Holmes on either side of him.

            “Pleasure to see you again,” John said with a grin.

            “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And with that Castiel disappeared to who knows where.

            He reappeared inside of a giant space ship. He glanced around in awe. There wasn’t anything like this in Heaven or on Earth.

            “Hello, and who might you be?” A tall, slender man in a suit with a trench coat drapped over it asked, looking him up and down behind square framed glasses. “Nice coat by the way.”

            “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.” Cas rolled his shoulders back to make himself seem taller.

            “An angel of the Lord? That’s fascinating!” The man stroked his chin as he considered Castiel. “I’m the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey and you’re currently in my TARDIS.”

            “TARDIS? What is a TARDIS?” Cas tilted his head to the side.

            “Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It allows me to travel anywhere in time and space.” He ghosted his fingers over the control buttons carefully. “What can I help you with? I imagine you’ve come quite a ways.”

            “I need you to come with me,” Castiel paused as his considered his next words carefully, “to a parallel universe.”

            The Doctor smiled at him sadly. “Parallel universes are off-limits. They’re completely sealed off to me.”

            “Not with the help of an angel.” Cas placed his hand on something that looked like a DNA scanner. He wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but he had to try. He didn’t know exactly what the angel statues were capable of, but he knew it was something sinister.

            The gears began turning and the buttons lit up.

            “Well, this is interesting!” The Doctor proclaimed looking at the controls curiously. “I’m the only one who’s been able to control the TARDIS before.”

            Within a matter of minutes, the Doctor had announced that they had landed safely wherever they were. He calmly stepped out of the spaceship. Castiel, on the other hand, was drained of his energy and could hardly move. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend that a giant spaceship had landed in the middle of the Winchester’s hotel room.

            “Aren’t you coming?” The Doctor popped his head back inside. When he took in the state of Castiel, he immediately ran over to help him up. With Castiel’s arm around the Doctor, they moved to exit the ship.

            “Cas! Are you okay?” Dean took Castiel from the man and set him down on a chair gingerly.

            “I’ll be fine. This is the Doctor.” It took more energy that it should have to crane his neck upward to look at the Doctor. When he did, he took in the sight of the ship. It was nothing more than a blue police box that dated from the 1960s. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

            The grin on the Doctor’s face widened. “Oh, I love when they say that.” He looked around the room, taking in the appearances of the others.

            “These are the Winchesters. Sam and Dean,” Castiel introduced, gesturing to each respectively. “And this is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.”

            The Doctor’s eyes lit up with delight. “ _The_ Sherlock Holmes and John Watson? What a curious universe this is.”

            “I’m sorry, but what?” John asked. His eyebrows raised in confusion.

            “In my universe, you two are nothing more than fictional characters. Oh, I quite like this universe indeed. Are you as brilliant as they say you are?” The Doctor held out his hand to Sherlock. Sherlock, who had previously had his hand in this coat pocket, removed it and shook the Doctor’s hand.

            “Yes, I am.” Was all Sherlock could muster. He was used to people knowing who he was and knowing that he was clever, but he hadn’t ever encountered anyone like the Doctor. He was a curious man.

            “So Castiel tells me that you need my help. Anyone care to elaborate on that?”

            “Moving angel statues. What do you know about them?” Sam asked.

            “Ah. The Weeping Angels. Fascinating race they are; almost as old as time itself. Much, much older than dear Castiel here. Lonely assassins they’re known as. They’re the deadliest, most powerful, most malevolent life forms evolution has ever produced. They’re also the only race to kill you nicely; they just zap you into the past and let you live to death while they eat up the energy of the potential days you might have had in the present.” The Doctor walked around the room as he spoke, picking things up and setting them down after examining them.

            “So how do we kill it?” Dean folded his arms cross his chest.

            “Now _that_ is the question! Do you know how they’ve survived this long? It’s because they have the ultimate defense system: they’re quantum locked. They literally don’t exist when they’re seen. At the sight of any other living creature, they turn to stone, and you can’t kill a stone. Of course, a stone can’t kill you either, but then you turn your head away, then you blink and oh yes it can. That’s why the cover their eyes – they can’t risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse – they can never be seen. Loneliest creatures in the universe.”

            “If we can’t kill it, then how do we get rid of it?” Sam asked.

            “We outsmart it.” Sherlock replied instantly.

            The Doctor pointed at him in excitement. “Yes! Right on the money.”

            “How do you outsmart the oldest creature in existence?” John asked.

            “It’s been done before,” the Doctor remarked still pacing about the room.

            “You don’t know what to do.” Sherlock proclaimed, studying the Doctor’s movements. It was what he did best – observing people and things and situations.

            “But that hardly means that I’m incapable of coming up with something. I’m quite clever actually.” The Doctor didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Oh and one other thing, the next time you encounter them don’t blink. Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead. Don’t turn your back. Don’t look away, and don’t blink.”

            “So really the only way to defend yourself against them is to not blink. Am I getting this right?” Dean looked incredulously at the Doctor.

            “Well,” the Doctor paused, taking a few seconds to think about it, “yeah actually.”

            “Do you have any idea where we should at least start then?” Dean asked.

            He was skeptical of the Doctor’s abilities, but Cas trusted him and Dean couldn’t really argue with that. Speaking of Cas, Dean glanced at him just to check up on him, he’d been awfully quiet the last few minutes. He looked absolutely exhausted, but angels didn’t sleep!

            “We can start by looking for it,” the Doctor suggested.

            “I’ll stay here. I won’t do you any good out there,” Cas said, laying back on the bed.

            “Here,” Dean said, passing his cell phone to Castiel. “If you need to get ahold of us, call Sam.”

            Castiel took it without complaint. He knew it would do no good to argue with Dean.

            “Right, let’s go.” Dean walked out of the door and into the Impala with Sam, Sherlock, John and the Doctor trailing close behind.

            The Doctor pulled some weird device out of his pocket. It was some kind of metal stick with a blue light at the end.

            “What’s that?” Sherlock looked at the thing curiously.

            “It’s my sonic screwdriver. With it, I’ll be able to detect if there’s a Weeping Angel around.” He pressed a button, and it made a weird noise. “Turn left here, Dean.”

            Dean looked in the rearview mirror skeptically, but turned anyways.

            “Stop here!” The Doctor shouted, not taking his eyes off his sonic screwdriver. Dean pulled over quickly. They had stopped in the middle of some random park.

            “Where are we?” Sam questioned as he climbed out of the car and closed the door carefully behind him. Dean was really particular about people not messing with his baby. He looked over at Dean who just shrugged.

            “It’s around here somewhere,” the Doctor mumbled to himself and headed off in some random direction.

            Sherlock turned to Dean. “We should split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

            Dean nodded as him and Sam took off in the opposite direction.

            They had been looking for about half an hour without any luck. Though Sam didn’t see how they would be considered lucky to find the Weeping Angel.

            “This is a waste of time. It’s obviously not here,” Dean said, turning to look at Sam.

            Sam glanced down at the ground. When he looked back up at his brother, something caught his eye just passed Dean’s head. What he saw made his blood run cold; it was the angel.

            “Dean,” Sam’s voice shook slightly with the fear that was creeping into him. “Look behind you.”

            Dean spun around slowly, knowing exactly what was behind him.

            “Dammit. Go get the Doctor,” he spat at Sam, not daring to take his eyes off the angel. “Now!”

            Sam took off running.

            “Listen here you S.O.B., you’re not going to get _any_ of us. Not me. Not Sam. Not _anyone_. So you might as well go back to wherever you came from.” There was a baseball bat in the trunk of the Impala, but he wasn’t positive if he’d be able to get to it without blinking or looking away. But he also wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open forever, let alone the time it’ll take Sam to get the Doctor and come back.

            He slowly started to back away. He knew that it couldn’t move while he was looking at it, but that didn’t stop him from being cautious.

 

Sam ran up to the Doctor, who was still with Sherlock and John, completely out of breath. He didn’t realize how far him and Dean had gone until he had to run all the way back.

            “Dean. Angel,” he managed to choke out between gasps of air. He rested his hands on his knees.

            They all had solemn looks on their faces.

            “Where is he?” Sherlock was the first to speak up.

            “In the park. Other side of pond.”

            They all took off running in that direction. Sam stopped suddenly, his face ghost white.

            “This . . . this is where he was. He was standing right here!” Sam exclaimed. “I – I don’t understand. Where did he go?” Sam wheeled around to look at the Doctor.

            “Sam. I’m so sorry,” the Doctor placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, sympathetically.

            “But you’re a time traveler! You can go back in time and bring him back!” Sam’s eyes were wild with panic.

            “I can’t know when or where he was sent,” the Doctor replied gravely. “I really wish I could help, but there’s no way of knowing exactly where he is.”

            Sam plopped down onto a nearby park bench, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

            John, who was previously looking at the ground in despair, looked up at Sam on bench. Something didn’t look right. There was carving in the wood that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

            “Guys,” John tried to get the others’ attention, but Sam was still in his own world and Sherlock and the Doctor were speaking quickly to one another, trying to figure out a solution. “Guys!” He said more forcefully this time. All three heads snapped up quickly. “Look!” He pointed at the space next to Sam.

            It read: _9/15/45_

            “What? There’s not a fifteenth month?” John cocked his head to the side.

            “That’s the ninth month, fifteenth _day_ , 1945,” Sam said, running his hand over the etchings made in the wood.

            “This was done with a car key,” Sherlock remarked, running his fingers over the carving.

            Sam’s head immediately turned to look at the Impala. The trunk was open. He hurried over to it. Everything seemed to be in place, except a metal baseball bat. Sam hadn’t noticed that the others followed him.

            “He has the baseball bat. What good could that possibly do him?” Sam asked, looking at the others.

            “He was going to use it to smash the statue while it was immobile,” Sherlock stated.

            “Destroy it before it destroys you. Now that’s clever!” The Doctor looked positively giddy with excitement. “Well, come along! We know when and where he is and I can’t imagine that he’s too happy about being stuck in the forties.”

            They headed back to the motel as quickly as they could.

            “Where’s Dean,” Cas asked as soon as they walked in.

            “In the forties, but no need to worry! We’re on our way to get him,” the Doctor explained and climbed into the TARDIS.

            Cas made a move to go with them, but Sherlock set a hand on his shoulder and made him sit back down.

            “You’re still recovering. Don’t worry, we’ll bring him home safely,” Sherlock said, managing a small smile. The others followed the Doctor into the TARDIS. Sherlock, John, and Sam looked around with confused faces.

            “It really _is_ bigger on the inside,” John marveled.

            “But how can that be?” Sherlock was genuinely confused. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

            “It’s dimensionally transcendental.” The Doctor explained nonchalantly as he messed with different buttons and gears to fly the spaceship. He looked up after a few moments of silence to see their confused faces. He then grabbed two boxes that were lying around, one bigger than the other. “Imagine this is the inside of the TARDIS,” he held up the bigger box, “and this is the outside,” he held up the smaller. He placed the smaller box on the ground, then walked a considerable distance and set the bigger down. “Now the larger box looks like it fits inside the smaller, doesn’t it? And if you could access that bigger box from the position of the smaller, the smaller would be bigger on the inside, wouldn’t it?” The Doctor, who was quite pleased with his explanation, looked up to see John’s and Sam’s completely blank faces. Sherlock, on the other hand, looked completely intrigued.

            “Is that how physics works in your universe?” He finally asked.

            “Well, not really, but sort of. It’s a complicated mess really,” the Doctor’s voice trailed off.

            Sherlock had a million questions running through his mind, but he thought it’d be best to save them until after they got Dean back.

            Their takeoff and landing went a lot smoother than the Doctor was used to.

            “Curious,” the Doctor mumbled to himself, but brushed the thought away when Sam practically ran out the door. The others followed him, but a little more slowly.

            Dean was sitting on the park bench, bat and keys in hand and a pile of rock at his feet. He jumped onto his feet at the sight of Sam running toward him. Dean caught his brother in a tight embrace.

            “For a while there, I didn’t think you guys were coming,” Dean said breaking apart from the hug.

            “How late are we?” The Doctor looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. It _had_ gone down quite a bit.

            “About four hours,” Dean said shortly.

            “Oh,” the Doctor’s eyebrows went so high they almost disappeared in his hair. “Sorry, that tends to happen sometimes. Well, no matter, we’re here now and you get to go home.”

            “Yeah, I just got thrown back in time by a psychotic angel statue, but no big deal,” Dean was stunned by the Doctor’s nonchalance.

            “We got you back, didn’t we?” Sherlock pointed out. “No need for hostility.”

            They entered the TARDIS, and now it was Dean’s turn to be in awe of it.

            “Wow, Cas wasn’t kidding. It really is bigger on the inside.”

            “Ready to go home?” The Doctor looked over his shoulder at Sherlock and John. They looked at each other and nodded.

            “That would be lovely, thank you,” John said. He opened his mouth to tell the Doctor where to go, but he was cut off.

            “To 221B Baker Street here we go!” The Doctor announced as he hit one last button.

            “How did you know that?” John gave the Doctor a confused look.

            “You’re story characters where I’m from, remember? I know everything about you two,” the Doctor said, winking at Sherlock.

            Sherlock’s face dropped, but John still looked confused.

            “Everything?” John inquired.

            “Even some things you don’t quite know about yet.” The smile on the Doctor’s face grew.

            The TARDIS made its funny little noise, and Sherlock and John stepped out. They both waved at the other three and were gone.

            “I expect you two want to get back as well?” The Doctor held out a tiny sliver of hope that they might want to tag along. It got quite lonely being on his own

            “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Sam said slowly, knowing exactly what he was implicating. They already had a lot on their plate in this universe; he didn’t think they’d do well in another.

            “Yeah, right, of course,” the Doctor stumbled over his words. Sam felt a pang of sympathy for him. He knew what it was like to be lonely; Dean did, too.

            Sam placed a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll find a companion soon. I know it.”

            The Doctor gave him a heartwarming smile. Before he could reply, the TARDIS began making the noise again.

            “Looks like we’re back. Do you think Cas has enough power to get me back? I really should be going.”

            Sam and Dean didn’t have time to answer when they exited the TARDIS to find Cas standing in front of them with a huge smile plastered on his face.

            “Ready Doctor?”

            The Doctor nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” He smiled at Sam and Dean. “If you need my help again, don’t hesitate to ask.”

            They nodded in unison. “The same goes for you,” Sam said.

            The Doctor headed back inside, and Cas placed his hand on the outside of the TARDIS this time. He closed his eyes in concentration as the TARDIS made its noise and began to fade away.

            “Goodbye Doctor, and thank you,” Dean whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I wrote for my writing class so I apologize if it's crap.


End file.
